


blasphemy

by quietdays



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: M/M, so im out here writing religious pieces again huh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-22 23:55:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13775304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quietdays/pseuds/quietdays
Summary: vignettes and short excerpts of a sinner's long journey back to his god.(yet who is who? which is which? the lines blur when love is involved, and as they say over and over and over again. all's fair in love and war. what is religion but both love and war?)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hey eliza sent me this tweet by littlehao from twitter and it made me want to die so here kinda inspired by it
> 
> context: artist hao and socialite hui who loves each other but dances around each othrr

it's a dark and lonely night.  
  
it's always like that, minghao thinks. the cold wind bites the nips of his fingers and he really should close the window soon. it's freezing outside and his hands are the only way he makes money nowadays and he still likes eating and living under a roof even if that roof is only a hotel room. besides, he's not the only one in the room.  
  
he takes a huge drag from his cigarette, looking at the person in his bed. apollo himself. the sun, the world, the starting point of the universe. how can such a man exist?  
  
everything from his hands that minghao has devoted most of his months to. his legs that he has worshipped like they are god and he is just a lowly believer. biting every inch of skin he can, kissing every moles he can find, drinking from the chalice of god--his lips. he has tried numerous times, he can never get his eyes right even if he commits everything to memory. (minghao has committed everything to memory. from the very first time he's laid eyes on him, from the very first time they spent the night together, the very first time he said those three words while the older was asleep. he has committed everything.)  
  
he can never get anything right when it comes to him.  
  
jun is perfect and he is right there in front of minghao. so close. so reachable. for a rare moment, human instead of god. it would be so easy for him to slip beneath the covers and sleep beside him. take his frame into his arms, feel the warmth radiating from him and breathe his scent. but minghao does not. instead, he quickly finishes his cigarette and takes a shot of absinthe. not like jun will miss a shot of it anyways.  
  
he leaves in the end.  
  
he cannot afford the luxury of wanting things he can never have.  
  
(he ignores the feeling of wanting to kiss his lips. it's the first time he's wanted something so bad that it hurts from the inside and out. he ends up going back home crying.  
  
he loves him too much. but he is god and who is minghao even? a sinner who devotes his entire being to blasphemy and to things that god will never approve of.)  
  
(but the thing is: god loves all sinners and junhui loves him the same way minghao does. full of want. full of pain.)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is so bad. i dont know where this is going anymore but as the filipino proverb goes: "basta lang may mapasa"

there is an event today.  
  
minghao for some unknown reason has attended it. he does not like festivities like this but--connections. he may be a rising artist but that doesn't mean he's going to last forever in the art world. he know he's a fleeting thing, and he's going to strive to not become like his contemporaries--broken and dead artists, wasn't smart enough to stay afloat when they were no longer relevant.  
  
besides, not like it's all too bad. jeonghan's in it to and if he plays his cards right he might go home with someone to fuck.  
  
wait, no. minghao looks over his shoulder and sees the hong paint seller and the other choi. they're both staring at jeonghan as if he is oasis after a long treck on the desert and that plan's a bust then. yoon might be easy on the eyes and fun to play around with but he doesn't fuck around with hong and choi's preys, especially since minghao needs the good but cheap paints from hong.  
  
still, that doesn't mean minghao's not going over to jeonghan and flirt. it's fun to rile up the two like this--make them think like they're losing their prey a bit, and jeonghan's going to thank him in the future too.  
  
"kitty." minghao says in a low voice, getting up to jeonghan's personal space. he looks up at him and pulls him closer to his chest. "twelve o'clock. doing you a favor."  
  
jeonghan looks quickly, far too quickly, and laughs. "shua and cheol, huh? you think i'm gonna go home with them?"  
  
"it's cute to see them think you're the prey." minghao replies, a hint of a smile in his tone. "it's also cute to see you think you're not gonna go home with them when they get everyone they want eventually."  
  
"from experience?" jeonghan asks, obviously amused. "what if i want to go home with you?"  
  
minghao scoffs. "you don't."  
  
"you're right, i don't." jeonghan laughs breathily and moves closer to breathe into minghao's ears. it takes everything minghao has in himself to not shiver, he then begins to remember why he doesn't like playing this game with someone who does it better than him. "but i know who does."  
  
minghao pulls harder on the tie jeonghan has and looks at him, blinking slowly in a way that he knows choi and hong will take in the wrong way. he's almost too afraid to ask.  
  
"who?" but who is minghao but someone who's far too curious for his own good? he's already eaten the apple of eden, so what's one more mistake to do?  
  
"look up. he's staring." he whispers and this time minghao does shudders. there's something about jeonghan that makes him feel like he's falling more and more. jeonghan kisses minghao's right cheek. "be careful though, he's with his mother."  
  
and with that, jeonghan leaves and lives. brushing non-existent dirt from his suit and drifting off to the windows where it's cool and quiet. from the corner of his eyes, minghao already sees choi and hong moving already, their hands gripping on their glasses as if it's minghao's neck. he'd laugh but he won't. he's too kind to do that.  
  
and aside from that, he's too busy staring at him above. he's on the right and everything about him is right. minghao sees him and realizes he has been looking at them for a while now. junhui notices him staring and he turns a nice shade of red that makes minghao wants to retire to his studio and spend days trying to recreate it, or maybe bully hong into creating a color like that.  
  
minghao blinks, and suddenly junhui is no more. he frowns, but remembers jeonghan's warnings. the mother is here. he can't do anything about it and neither can junhui. seneca is rolling in his grave right now, on how minghao is hung up on things he can't change.  
  
he continues his night, deciding to just watch jeonghan string along two fools for the evening. that's better than anything he's ever watched on television or on stage. the night is peaceful and he elects drinking russian water for the night.  
  
a tap on his shoulder. minghao barely even turns around when his whole being gets smothered in a hug.  
  
junhui.

even from a distance away he knows it's him. he takes in the cologne and then after a split second he pulls away from the hug and looks at junhui straight in the eye.  
  
as always, he looks good. too good. a demigod. son of god--no no. god himself. there is the universe in his eyes, roses on his lips and the sun on his skin. he should say the words, it's practically is on the tip of his tongue. his heart is overwhelmed and overspilling with joy and and sadness. those three words. he can say it now.  
  
"you could've spilled my drink." is what he says instead because he is far too much a coward to step into the light.  
  
junhui looks at him, unknown expression in his eyes, before he laughs. when he laugh, he throws his whole being into it. as if the happiness has taken over his body and he has become that--the essene of pure happiness. angels sings and bells ring whenever he laughs.  
  
damn.  
  
minghao should be a writer if the worst comes to worst and this whole art thing goes to shit.  
  
"always the alcoholic i see?" junhui smiles at him before moving to kiss the ring on minghao's finger. every fiber in minghao's body wishes it was his lips instead that it's almost shameful. (but if there is something minghao has learned in his life, it is never to be ashamed of his feelings and emotions. but his actions?  
  
well, those are fair game.)  
  
"and you ever the mommy's boy." minghao retorts, his head moving to the balcony above where junhui's mom lays in the shadows watching the two of them. it comes out snakier than he intended but he doesn't regret that.  
  
"jealous my mom actually likes me?" junhui asks, and his hands reach over to take a glass of wine from one of the passing waiters.  
  
"not really." minghao shrugs. "glad my mom's not here to micromanage every part of my life and choose my decisions for me actually."  
  
junhui shoves him, but not too hard. "you're such dick hao."  
  
minghao shrugs again. he doesn't really know how to respond to that and he doesn't know how to deal when junhui is looking at him with those eyes. the eyes he gives after a long night of being together where they're both fucked out and just lazily lounging in bed, minghao a cigarette in his lips and junhui lightly scolding him. those eyes that makes minghao think he's actually loved by god.  
  
suddenly, junhui's phone beeps.  
  
"fuck." he says, after quickly looking at the text and above the balcony again. "mom's calling."  
  
"another girl to meet?" minghao raises an eyebrow.  
  
"more like giving her more wine to drink." junhui puts away his phone and gives him a smile that says too much. "why? jealous?"  
  
"no." yes.  
  
"don't worry hao, you're still number one in my heart!" junhui laughs before getting closer and kissing his left cheek. "i mean it."  
  
minghao rolls his eyes and pushes him away. "just go to your mom dickhead."  
  
junhui smiles at him one more time, saluting him before running back above. minghao looks on.  
  
looks like he'll go home alone tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have 50000000 school project and stuff to work on but again ancient filipino proverb: "nasa huli ang pag sisisi"


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow i love being experimental. aka another foray into this kind of writing.

"look me in the eyes. answer me. did you even love me?"  
  
"no." yes.  
  
"you're not looking at me in the eyes."  
  
a movement. "no i did not love you! what more do you want?"  
  
"then this is okay? i leave and you stay, and--and--you're just. i'm giving you a way out. you're not taking it. this is okay to you?"  
  
"yes." no.  
  
"okay. i know when to stop." a sigh. he sounds so broken. he regrets. "i'm leaving."  
  
"all right." wait. no. don't. i love you too, so much more than how you love me it's scary. too scary. the world is closing in on me and i do not want you to be part of the downfall. you are too much too good to be there. give me a second, let me explain. i love you i love you i love you i love you--  
  
but it's too late. he has left. the room is cold, too cold. you should move to close the windows but you do not. (when have you ever moved to do anything? when have you ever really chose? that was all him. all him. all him.  
  
fuck.  
  
it's barely been five minutes. the room is cold but fuck the damn room.  
  
you miss him so much. too much.)  
  
you do not like the cards dealt to you by fate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wrote a lot today. all of em vignettes.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "please im begging you be gentle with minghao,, he is my son"  
> famous last words by eliza

the day of his wedding passes by. minghao does not go.  
  
he is not that masochistic. he tried, he did. he adheres to seneca and cicero. follows epictetus to the T. he accepts and he lets it go. funnily enough, the burden on his shoulder does not go away. it might never go away. atlas.  
  
so he retires to his atelier, the corner of his room. trying his best to draw hands he will never touch instead. recreate lips he won't ever kiss again. committing to art every tiny piece of him that he'll never get to be with ever again. there is supposed to be a sense of finality with these actions, a sense where he's locking up every bit of love he has for him--like in the movies and books he has read and had him read to him in the past. the artist moves on with his art and it's supposed to be pretty.  
  
he does not. minghao ends up being on his phone, checking jeonghan's snapchats of the wedding and crying like his life depended on it. weeks ago, he would no sooner kill himself than let water that is not his paints touch his works but now he's freely crying on them. not caring if they're ruined, if they've become even more of a mess--even more pitiful.  
  
god was not supposed to marry magdalene. but this is not the bible, he is not god and minghao is no one.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow smh when will i ever be this fast in writing when its about my acads huh

"you've been locked up here for far too long."  
  
minghao wakes up to jeonghan standing over him, a piece of paper on his hands and he realizes that's one of his. he looks around himself, everything is scattered around, from unused paper, used charcoals and pastels, used tissues. he hasn't drank anything alcoholic yet but his head hurts so much.  
  
"what are you doing here?" minghao croaks out. he should get something to drink but jeonghan is an asshole friend and doesn't even offer him anything.  
  
"it's been three days, kitty." jeonghan says, his eyes not looking away from the paper. "these are his hands."  
  
"how did you even get in? this is a hotel room not an apartment." minghao finally elects to move and stand up. a wrong idea because he ends up falling on his bed.  
  
"told the counter you sent me a text saying you overdosed on meth. they opened it for me." jeonghan sighs and finally takes pity on minghao and gives him the complimentary bottled water that minghao has never touched (until now obviously). minghao takes it and gulps it all in one go. it's not what he's looking for but it works. "you're a mess kitty. all this for one guy."  
  
"he's not the cause of this." he says. an effort to keep up image. jeonghan scoffs.  
  
"look me in the eyes and tell me that." he dares and taunts. minghao obviously cannot. he cannot lie, rather he doesn't know how to anymore. "see? you're a mess. you've been drawing him the past three days while he's been living it up in the bahamas or something, probably screwing his wife every moment he has. ask yourself this minghao, did he even love you? or were you just an easy fuck?"  
  
"stop." minghao tries to say. this is why he does not befriend jeonghan. he's too--too. too jeonghan. "just leave if you're going to do this to me. leave and screw around with your boyfriends then."  
  
jeonghan softens his gaze and sits beside minghao. he runs his fingers through minghao's hair and he feels twenty years younger, like he's back home in china and his parents are trying to bring down his fever.   
  
"i love you, you know that." jeonghan whispers. "but you love him far too much for me to even be able to overlook that."  
  
"correction: you loved me." minghao says. suddenly tears are back in his eyes and he no longer deserves anything. "you have them now. soulmates."  
  
"i guess i do." jeonghan moves to kiss his cheeks and lips. "but there's always a special place in my heart for you."  
  
"greaser." minghao replies and laughs. "you don't mean that."  
  
"i do. but not like that, not anymore." jeonghan looks at minghao's eyes. "and i certainly can't afford to with joshua and seungcheol waiting for me in my home."  
  
minghao laughs again. the tears aren't going away any time soon. "cheater."  
  
"asshole. this is the most you'll ever get from me. i'm a committed man." jeonghan rolls his eyes and gets up from minghao. he gives out his hands for him to take. "but you certainly are not and you can certainly afford to make mistakes like a dumbass. and after you make those mistakes we can talk about getting these works in an exhibit exclusive to my gallery."  
  
"fucking blood smelling shark in the  water." minghao says, making him laugh. he looks at jeonghan's hand and he knows what he's offering--an out. he hesitates but he reaches out and takes it.  
  
it feels like betrayal. a deal with the devil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dont judge. i wrote a lot and i dont have what the patience for a schedule.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im now in the stage of writing where aside from having an unreliable narrator we now also have an ureliable timeline.
> 
> god bless donna tartt
> 
>  
> 
> i should just change the title to how many times can i break minghao but not too much so i can still be able to try and attempt to fix him later

"you're back."  
  
minghao does not know how to feel. today should be a good day for him; his exhibit has opened in jeonghan's gallery and later he'll be drinking it up with wonwoo and mingyu in their small apartment and again if he plays his cards right he might sleep in their bed instead of the guest room, but again. like always, with things concerning him, all those plans are a bust.  
  
"i'm back." junhui smiles at him and minghao notices there is no pretty wife hung around his arms. (minghao doesn't actually know if she's pretty, he's never seen her but he's sure that if it's jun, they're always pretty, writher pretty, act pretty.)  
  
(it's a wonder he even got with him.)  
  
"it's been some time." minghao nods at him. if he loves himself he should be going, he should be looking for jeonghan, for wonwoo, for mingyu, for anyone. but he does not. he is the earth and he is a mere meteor and he is within his gravitational pull. he feels himself falling again, burning himself.  
  
he knows he will die because of him.  
  
"it has been." junhui nods and looks at the painting. suddenly minghao feels so exposed. he looks at his eyes, searching for anything that might hint at what he's thinking--if he knows who these hands are, who these moles belongs to, who the legs wrapped around the waist belongs to, the lips bruised red belongs to. "you did not attend the wedding."  
  
minghao breathes. "no i did not."  
  
"why?"  
  
"too busy." minghao lies. he cannot lie to anyone but him. he wonders why. all he wants to do is drop to his knees and beg forgiveness, for what? he doesn't know. he hasn't done anything yet. "drawing all of these."  
  
"you forsake your old friend for drawing? an asshole as always." junhui laughs and minghao yearns for something he can no longer have.  
  
"you are not my friend." it slips out of his mouth before he can even think and for once he is ashamed of his actions. there is no good dwelling in the past.  
  
"i-" junhui looks at him with wide eyes. hurt. and suddenly minghao understands why sinners go to hell. why they do not deserve to go to heaven. it takes everything he has to actually not cry right then and there. "i suppose you are right. i have never been a friend to you."  
  
"you have not been one." minghao tells him, nodding. he does not know where he gets this confidence and arrogance from, to actually go and slander and commit blasphemy. the agua bendita he is drinking does not feel as cool as before.  
  
"you do not live in the hotel now?" jun asks, carefully stepping aside the topic. the tension is thick. they are the only two people existing in the world. "why?"  
  
"i live in an apartment now." minghao tells him, "with gyu and wonu. if you know them."  
  
but minghao knows he knows them, the earth is small and the world within art even smaller. he also knows the reputation that precedes the two of them. everyone knows about wonwoo and mingyu.  
  
"oh." junhui says. he can almost hear the unspoken words. minghao almost feels guilty for making him go through all of this.  
  
(you stay with people you do not know? yet when i asked countless times to live with me you do not even budge? you laugh and continue as if?  
  
where.  
  
where have i gone wrong?)  
  
(please answer me.)  
  
"your art is good as always." junhui says. and minghao feels like he is drowning. this is too much. far too much. he is okay with gyu and wonu and jeonghan and everyone looking at this part of him but---junhui? he doubts he will ever be okay with it. "i like these hands."  
  
"i--i'm sorry." minghao does not know why he even bothers saying apologies when he won't understand even the tip of it. "i think i hear jeonghan calling me."  
  
and then they both know he is lying.

"it's all right." junhui smiles at him like nothing ever happened. like it is the old times and minghao is free to join him whenever he wants wherever he wants. when he is still free to touch him as if they belong to each other. he smiles as if he forgives and it's stupid. it is not minghao who should apologize, it is not junhui who should forgive. he lost the right to that when he has married, when he let his mother control his life. junhui looks at his watch. "the wife might be waiting for me at home as well too."  
  
"see you." minghao nods at junhui and he gets out of there right away. too fast that it seems like he is almost running away from judgement. but it's okay. the farther he is from him the easier he can breath. the easier the russian water can go down.  
  
it has been a year. he is happy with wonwoo and mingyu. he is happy with where he is in the art world. he is happy with how jeonghan treats him as if he is a protege. he is happy with how hong and choi has seemingly forgotten the stunts he pulled with jeonghan and treats him as if he is family. he is okay that he no longer has junhui. he is okay. he no longer loves him the way he did a year ago. he no longer does. he no longer does. he no longer does. he no longer does.  
  
(funny. no matter how much he repeats it he can never convince and lie to himself.)  
  
(he is so utterly consumed by him. god is fire and he is the moth so ready to be burned if it meant being loved by him.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if... you perhaps want to talk to me then you may do so in my tumblr: 17cherub


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im just. really horny for some reason lol. so we bump up the rating and write bad sex.

this is where the beginning starts. the end stalls.  
  
a cocky smile. minghao doesn't know how to say no to those, he's always been attracted to people who are confident in the ways he can never be. it feels more satisfying to take those kinds of people apart. see them writhing underneat his touch, see them beg for him.   
  
and he commits these to memory. all of those he commits. he does not forget things easily, he makes a point not to.  
  
but.  
  
he forgets everything leading up to it. it's okay he supposes. if he forgets sometimes. it's better to just remember moments like this.  
  
he isn't writhing on the bed, not yet. not yet. but soon he'll get there. minghao will bring him there even if it's the last thing he does.  
  
he trails down tiny kisses. nips at his neck, and it's too hot into the room. too uncomfortably hot. so minghao removes his jacket. he removes his jacket too, his jacket and shirt. it's okay. minghao doesn't complain, it makes it easier for him to bite and kiss and touch and--  
  
it's embarrassing how aroused he is, like he's a highschooler who just discovered the wonders of sex. but the man in front of him is adonis, all shy eyes and confident smiles. red in his cheeks and ears and the sun blessing his skin. so he supposes that he has an excuse.  
  
not everyday you touch a god.  
  
"reminds me," the man says in between the moans he makes whenever minghao bites particularly hard on his way down. "i don't know your name."  
  
"d'ya really need to?" minghao isn't the one for talk but he makes an exception. he doesn't know why he's making an exception. he grinds down his dick onto the other's thigh. it's too much. too too much. but this is all a must.  
  
(funny how he's the one who set out to take apart but he's the one being torn apart despite the other not doing anything.)  
  
"i need to know what to scream later, you know?" he smiles all cockily and minghao is so fucking attracted he doesn't know why. "junhui by the way."  
  
"minghao." he finds himself saying, entranced by the lips of the others. so he succumbs to instinct reaches up and kisses him.  
  
it is the worst mistake of his life.  
  
electricity courses all throughout him. and he feels like he is being consumed by fire. he presses down harder in jun's thigh. he needs to be inside this man, or be filled by this man. whichever comes first. minghao's not picky. (but after this he could be. with future lovers. he knows he's going to spend all his life comparing all future endeavors and sexcapades with this man. with this man he barely knows.)  
  
"you're so fucking hot." minghao says as he kisses the corner of junhui's lips. his hands travel down to his jeans and he palms the growing erection of the other. junhui moans and while minghao's definitely trying to not be repetitive--it is the hottest thing he's ever heard in his whole life. he's so sure that sound will haunt him his whole life.  
  
"fuck." junhui hisses and his hands makes it's way to undo the buckle of his belt and take off his jeans and boxers. "don't tease, please."  
  
and it's cute how he begs. minghao might be in love.  
  
so he gives him what he wants. his fingers wrap themselves around junhui's cock and he gives an experimental jerk that makes junhui's head throw back. his moan fills the room and it all sends minghao into overdrive. it goes straight to his dick and the only thing occupying his mind is to make junhui feel good--no longer carrying about chasing his own high.  
  
so he does that again. moving his hands faster to make junhui moan louder and higher. there's something so satisfying about seeing his back arch in ecstacy but never really getting there yet. he moves his hands slower, often times outright stopping whenever he feels junhui is too close, far too close. minghao wants to milk this for all he can.  
  
(and it's so cute to see junhui practically sobbing and stuttering when minghao does fully stop. how his fingers clenches the bedsheets, messing it up even if they haven't really truly started yet.)

"you're such a fucking asshole." junhui sobs out as minghao thumbs the slit of his cock. he does not reply but merely smiles at him deviously.  
  
"you have to tell me what you want, junhui." minghao practically cackles. "you know, beg for it?"  
  
"i'd rather die tha--" junhui's sentence is cut short by minghao jerking him off fast and rough. the way he needs and likes it. and he's so close. practically there, just a little more--a little more--  
  
and then it stops. junhui is on the bed, sobbing, just wanting release. his hips jerking up in a futile manner. he's just so fucking desperate.  
  
"please." he begs. "please please please, minghao. just a little more."  
  
"use your words junhui." minghao says, and he sounds far too amused. but junhui no longer cares.  
  
"i just want to cum. please 'm begging you minghao." junhui says, desperatiom evident in his voice. he would do anything for release right now. anything and everything.  
  
"that wasn't so hard now was it?" and before junhui can retort back, minghao moves down, and puts his whole mouth to junhui's cock.   
  
and it's so warm and wet and tight and junhui doesn't even last ten seconds before he releases into minghao's mouth. he doesn't even warn him aside from a broken cry and tugging at minghao's hair.  
  
minghao gets up with a pop, his tongue with the taste of junhui's cum and he looks at him. so thoroughly fucked out, his eyes blissful and his chest rising up and down. he looks so ethereal and they haven't even started yet.  
  
minghao really might be in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow cant believe i just wrote that.

**Author's Note:**

> wow
> 
> i'l rewrite this in the future and go all out w the religious references. one day ill do it one day when im no longer a coward


End file.
